You let her statement linger for a few moments so as not to interrupt any dramatic lightning crashes or other ominous punctuation. When it becomes clear that the local weather systems have no gift for drama, you follow Yurie inside and plop down onto one of the nicer chairs, avoiding the spear still embedded in it from the bust incident.
"That explains a lot, actually," you say. "And here I thought Heinkel was bein' paranoid when she insisted that watchin' Inception would come in handy for fieldwork someday."
Silence. You look around at their impassive faces, although Ebrietas's is kind of impassive by default. "No questions?"
"You'd just reply with 'nothin'' or go into some convoluted explanation of your home dimension that would raise more questions," Simon responds.
"You," you say with an accusatory finger, "are the biggest Goddamn spoilsport."
"Anyway," says Yurie, pile-driving the conversation back into place, "Ebrietas and I are confident in our theory."
"I don't have any evidence ta the contrary, so I'll roll with it. The real question is whose dream this is."
"Whoever it is, they're behind Rom. Neither the Hunters' Nightmare nor the Hunters' Dream have anywhere near as much tangible impact on Yharnam as that place. Based on our observations, the realm contains both its own host and that of Yharnam; their consciousness didn't make the pilgrimage to its creation that the others did."
"How exactly did you determine this?" says Simon.
"Signal emission. Among other things, Byrgenwerth excelled in the study of realms beyond our own and we developed instruments to measure their infringement on our reality. Everything has its own frequency, which we can catalog and derive working theories from based on its intensity and presence among atypical phenomena." Yurie wheels a chalkboard out from somewhere among the buckling bookshelves and goes to work; Simon appears genuinely enthralled by her sketching. "Ebrietas, being a Great One, is naturally attuned to these frequencies and can identify them with ease. Upon observing the flow of influence around Rom's barrier, she matched it with that surrounding the victims of the 'plague' while simultaneously establishing the presence of its host."
Ebrietas somehow manages to beam.
Yurie tries to launch into further exposition, but instead hacks up some ugly coughs and takes a deep pull of water. "I'm sorry; still not used to talking this much."
"Not a problem," Simon replies.
"In any case," she continues after some undignified throat-clearing, "that's where we stand. The one upside is that we appear to be in a sort of stasis, possibly due to Father Anderson's influence."
"Ye mean the fact that I'm here or my body count?"
"Either or," she shrugs. "If you elect to kill Rom, and I firmly suggest you do, things will go south immediately. Until then, however, we seem to be stuck in a sort of limbo. If there's anything you need to take care of, do it first. You have, as far as we can tell, all the time in the world."
"Knew it was fuckin' Limbo," you say with a righteous snap of your fingers. Simon's influence again precludes a reaction, leaving you to grump into the musty cushions with renewed vigor.
Yurie, whose chalkboard has become an impenetrable mess of recursive scribbles, sits down and takes another drink. Ebrietas gives her a reassuring tentacle-pat. They seem like good influences on each other; maybe Yurie can help tutor your squishiest disciple in the extensive and oft-contradictory ways of man.
"I've been here alone for literally longer than I can fathom," Yurie rasps, voice a tattered tenor. "I've had every opportunity to fix this, but I've been too chickenshit to follow through. I told myself that I just needed more data, needed to be absolutely sure before I did anything. I just didn't want to be responsible for whatever happened next." She chokes out a laugh. "At least I have you to dump that on now."
[] Keep talking
-[] About?
[] Go after Rom
[] Go to
-[] The Chapel
-[] The Dream
-[] The Nightmare
[] Write in...
